28 June 2005 ~~ After six months of speculating, testing and waiting, the big day arrived.
I must say the day of surgery will go down in my memory file as the best of the whole ordeal. Let's begin with what's important. Hospital Fashion. We bought several cute bandanas and Amber cut them in half and tied them up for me so I had several clean choices for cute headgear. Honestly - who's going to want to brush my mane while I'm infirm? With the kids off with Grandma and Grandpa, we showed up at the hospital early in the morning and were taken to a prep room where I had to remove all my clothing and undergarments and don the lovely hospital gowns. They also gave me some rather attractive circulation stockings which my husband kindly helped me get into. The world starts getting a little fuzzy right about here for me, so now would be a good time to insert help. My husband (after reading my blog) wrote to me about his thoughts on the day and Cousin Amber filled in some more...
*Waving again* Hi, It’s me again, HisGirl. I’ve been asked to chime in on part 4 of this story… I’ll be the girl in purple!*
I thought it would be good for me to write about the tumor from my side of the story.
This is called “My wife’s uterus.”
I don’t remember too much actually, only that there were some issues that led you to believe there was a giant tumor. I vaguely remember telling you that I doubted that, and that you were only being a drama queen. So there’s that. You went to the doctor on post, and they figured out it was too much for them to handle, which was very surprising to me. Over the years I’ve learned that poor medical treatment was the norm for the military.
Anyways, I did not go to the local doctor with you. It was work or something, I don’t know. At this point I was starting to feel like it was something more serious, but I still wasn’t convinced there was a giant tumor. When that doctor said we needed to go to the big city CANCER doctor, I started to be a bit concerned. I hadn’t been this concerned about your uterus since the time I saw the doctor holding it, OUT of you, in his hands, immediately after he took the twins out. That messed me up too, by the way. It is not cool to see your wife’s internal organs OUT of her and in someone’s hands.
So this time I did go to the big city doctor with you. Wow, considering we’re both from So Cal did you ever think we’d ever refer to somewhere as the “big city?” Anyways, we had a great time at that hospital, getting free milkshakes, talking to the CANCER doctor and so on, in the CANCER section. Yes, that freaked me out. So after hearing how you would be opened up, have stuff removed and such, I was really starting to feel like my life with you wasn’t going to be as long as I had thought.
I’ll just skip all the administrative hoo-ha about who talked to whom in order to get your surgery approved. I just mainly remember that as being another series of dramatic events, with lots of red tape involved.
So fast-forward to me driving to Houston to pick up Cousin A. Let me just say that there was a time in my life when I despised this woman.
*Despised? Really? I think that you meant to say that you had not yet discovered what a great choice of wife your cousin had landed. That’s all ;)*
That story could take up a whole page so I won’t even go into it. But now, everything is wonderful, and I love this woman like my sister.
*I love you too, man.*
So we met up at the airport and drove home to you.
*Thank you for not mentioning that I chattered incessantly the entire drive home, but you did leave out the exciting news that I sat next to pro football player Mark Roman on the plane. I guess you might have forgotten that part, but I’m sure he’ll never forget the girl who asked him, oh, so you play football, for like, money?*
Okay, now to surgery day. I am severely messed up.
*Hey man, you were doing great. We were all scared, but you were brave for your wife and I was so impressed with you*
Cousin A prayed with us, then they whisked you away. I’m pacing the halls. Cousin A and I ate some swill at the hospital cafeteria, we feel sick.
*Noticing that you left out that I totally whooped you at cards. I believe you may have been a bit distracted, what, with worrying about your wife and all, but I totally Shanghaied your bootay!*
Then we find out you’re done and are in post-op. Shortly after that they bring you back to your room. At this point I am so thankful that you lived. It didn’t matter so much what state you were in when you came back, what mattered was that you were going to live and I wasn’t going to be alone. *
I was especially touched by your devotion to S4J. I love that you love her with such a deep, true, abiding love. I love knowing that you care about my dearest friend with the kind of love that Christ has for us. Watching your relief when we knew she was going to be okay blessed me in a way that I just can’t put to words. *
And that is it. From there was the hospital stay, and the healing, and the hopes that your dumb uterus wouldn’t cause me anymore grief.
I am thankful to God that I am even able to write this, and especially thankful that you are alive to read it. I am also thankful to Cousin A for coming to help us through this adventure, and to her family for letting her make the trip.
*Me too, Cousin C… me too*
Hey, S4J… do you want to talk about the post op stuff next? I’m game if you are J